


Billy, Interrupted

by williamastankova



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Basketball, Caught, Denial, Dirty Talk, Erections, First Kiss, Harringrove, Homoeroticism, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Kissing, Love/Hate, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Party, Sexual Tension, Showers, Sports, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamastankova/pseuds/williamastankova
Summary: Steve seldom ever wished to die. Only a handful of times had he been in a situation so awkward, so uncomfortable, that he literally wished to vanish into thin air, but this was definitely number one on the list. And now, Billy's afraid he'll out him. How far will he go to stop that happening?





	Billy, Interrupted

Steve's eyes burned. A roaring flame embedded itself behind his pupils, screaming at him to leave, go anywhere - literally _anywhere_  else, just not here - but still he found he couldn't move. You see, he was at a party. He'd come with Nancy, but she'd lost herself somewhere in the crowd, and after remembering how much she'd drunk last time, he grew anxious and decided to make it his sole mission to find her. That involved pushing past the sweat-leaking teens, dry-humping half-stripped on the dance floor to the terrible music the DJ had chosen, and heading into every room in search of her. This, however, meant he was here now, looking at... well, looking at whatever he was looking at.

He knew one thing for sure: he was looking at Billy Hargrove. No, he wasn't jerking off or anything, though Steve supposed now, after knowing what he was actually caught doing, that he'd prefer that. No, Billy wasn't alone: he was deeply tonguing someone whose back was to Steve. They were in the towel closet of whoever's house it was, Steve couldn't remember right now, because his brain was busy frying. He couldn't do anything but stare, mesmerised, until Billy yelled, clearly having felt eyes on him. This interruption made his partner jump, and whip around to stare at Steve also. Then, it hit him, exactly why Billy was so afraid of being caught: Billy was kissing a guy.

With _mayday mayday fucking mayday_  alarms in his head, Steve swirled around and darted from the room. Billy's voice boomed and pounded off of the walls, calling out his name, undoubtedly chasing after him, but somehow Steve managed to lose himself in amongst the crowd, and so he lived another day. Remembering his initial task, he instead opted for option B, which was to seek out Jonathan and tell him to look for Nancy instead. After all, it wasn't his job anymore, so as long as she was safe, it didn't really matter who got her home unscathed. Steve's main focus right now was to leave as soon as possible, and never ever be alone with Billy ever again.

Soon enough, he'd located Jon in a corner and told him the situation, and, with a quick look cast behind him, he produced his keys out of his pocket and was in his car in no time, and driving back home. So maybe Billy wouldn't stop looking for him, and maybe he'd get his head kicked in if he said absolutely anything, or even thought about it again. Then again, he couldn't get the image of Billy tactfully kissing into the unfamiliar male's mouth out of his mind, so maybe he was a dead man walking after all.

**

Monday morning, he considered staying off. Maybe he'd call in sick for the week, or just say he was dead and have it over with. After all, if he did decide to face the day, wake himself up and dress for school, it'd be true enough, because he knew Billy would stop at nothing to make sure Steve didn't utter a word of the experience to anybody. He knew the easiest way for him to do this was to kill him, yet he decided to go in anyways. Did he really have a death wish?

To his surprise, there was no sign of Billy. No obnoxious screaming in the hallways, no pushing of younger years, no shirtless mayhem running around, his mullet and posse swinging behind him at about the same pace and distance. Then again, this hardly came as a shock to Steve, when he saw Billy isolating himself as much as humanly possible in the cafeteria, sitting in the corner of his group and looking in the opposite direction to the conversation, only sparing them a nod when they burst out into laughter and motioned for him to join. Something within Steve dropped, and he had the sudden urge to go over to him and talk about what had happened. But then. when he remembered who he was actually talking about, Steve snapped himself out of it, and figured that if Billy wanted them to talk about it, he was old enough and big enough to find him himself. He just hoped and prayed Billy's 'talking' didn't involve any fists and bloodshed, however unlikely that was to be true.

**

He cursed his own logic at the end of the day. On his short walk out of the main doors into the car-park, Steve heard a voice calling his name from behind him. He swore under his breath, and swiveled to look who it was (as though he didn't know already).  
"Steve!" Billy called once more, as he drew within normal volume distance. "I was hoping we could have a little chat."

"Yeah, yeah," he tried to act nonchalant, while willing to disappear from existence entirely, "I'm a bit busy, actually-"  
"Great!" Billy threw his arm around his neck, flexing his muscle just enough to assert dominance, "It'll only take a minute."

They slunked around the building, much to Steve's disappointment, and found a spot that was all too familiar to Steve, underneath the bleachers. He liked to avoid this area as much as possible, seeing as it was where he knew for certain that Nancy - sober and drunk - didn't love him. There, Billy stopped walking them, and let Steve's head go, instead opting to grip his shoulders.  
"You know what I'm here to talk about, Harrington." He spoke sternly, looking him straight in the eye, "If nothing else, you should know that I'm not... queer."

Steve rolled his eyes at the derogatory word. It seemed so... outdated, especially after everything that had happened in the past year or so. Surely people had to realise there were things more important than someone's sexuality - aliens from another dimension, to name one?  
"Whatever, Billy." He shrugged, still a little nervous but speaking frankly, "I don't really care if you are."

"No, no," Billy insisted, suddenly sounding less sure of himself. He furrowed his brows, looking even more stern than usual, "I'm not. Really. Whatever you saw, you were probably just... drunk. Or high."

"I had to drive back," Steve retorted, thinking he didn't have time for Billy's unnecessary rambling, "I didn't have anything."

"Well, it wasn't anything serious." Billy changed his alibi suddenly. He sounded more desperate now, and Steve couldn't quite tell anymore who he was trying to convince. "It was just... experimenting."

"Mhm." Steve nodded along sardonically. "Looked it."

"It was lame anyway; I wouldn't do it again. Didn't even know the guy."

"I don't know - you looked pretty into it, dude." Steve knew he shouldn't find the situation funny, but he couldn't help but be amused. After all, did Billy _really_  think it bothered Steve that much? "You don't need to lie to me."

"Shut up." Billy insisted, voice venomous, "He's just a fag anyway. I knew he'd say yes, so I picked him. He's not even good looking. Kisses like my grandma."

"Your grandma kisses like that?" Steve did a crude re-enactment of the making out, and how Billy had held the boy's face. "Man, I should get a piece of that action."

Suddenly, Steve found himself against the cold brick, with the wind knocked out of him. It wasn't dissimilar to the breathless sensation he had whenever he tried to beat Billy at basketball but always failed miserably, but this time there was a physical weight on his chest, pinning him to the wall: Billy.

"You shut your mouth." Billy rose his dark eyebrows, showing his sincerity. He looked suddenly... evil. In a way he never had before, Steve felt that, in that moment, if he'd tried to make a smart remark again, he'd be physically damaged in some way. So, that not being the desirable outcome, he opted instead to nod and look at Billy's face, finding it strange to take in his features at such close proximity. He wondered if this was how the boy had felt the other night, when he was kissed by Billy. Then again, with how Billy had seemed to be kissing the boy - sweetly, not aggressive as he was being now - it wasn't likely the boy felt like he did. About the only comparison to be made was the closeness of their bodies, and even then that was a stretch.

He played his hand at one more joke to ease the situation. "You gonna kiss me now, Hargrove?"

Whether or not the look Steve saw Billy cast down at his lips was legitimate or his imagination playing into what his brain had absently thought and had his lips stupidly say, Billy definitely then let Steve go and stalked off, not letting Steve see his face as he turned the corner. Steve waited a brief moment, then followed suit, not wanting to catch up with him and prolong their encounter, but still wanting to make it home relatively early. At the very least, he was glad they'd finally broken the ice about it.

**

Once more, they don't speak. Steve thinks Billy wants to forget it happened, and really, so does he, but it's so difficult. Whenever he closes his eyes for longer than ten seconds, he sees a dramatic replay of Billy grasping the boy's face, running his fingers through his long hair, then planting one on him. He sees how Billy works his tongue expertly, and he even begins to wonder how he knows just what to do. A voice in the back of his mind even implores him to find out how good Billy really is. He chooses to ignore this.

They're playing basketball the next time they speak. In a familiar position, Billy is behind him suddenly, and talking down his ear as they move for the ball. Steve swallows at the unexpected proximity, and tries desperately to forget any past thoughts he's had. This is harder than anticipated.  
"You haven't told anybody, have you?"

Steve shakes his head, and makes a concurring noise. He dares not speak, because he doesn't know what his voice sounds like, and he doesn't want to find out just how far Billy is willing to go to take the heat off of himself. Steve hears a loud hum, pleased, straight down his ear. It sounds almost guttural, but it's gone so fast that he can't really pin it.

**

The next time, they don't wait an eon to talk again. In fact, it's only about an hour, because it's the time it takes for the game to finish up and everyone else to finish getting their showers. Now, in the locker room, it's just them, and Steve thinks today is just a day for deja vu, because as he's washing the soap from his body, the water suddenly goes off, and when he opens his eyes, he sees Billy staring intently at him, like he's something to be marveled at, his eyes focused like a hawk on its prey.  
"Why?"

He thinks for a moment his mouth and brain have conspired behind his back, because that was the exact question he was thinking of asking. But no, Billy had been the one to pose the question, definitely, because the expectant look on his face told Steve he was awaiting an answer. Steve brushed his hair back and looked back at Billy, defiant.  
"Why what?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"  
Steve wasn't in the mood for chatting, so he decided to be awkward. Even though he knew what Billy means, he still asked, "Why didn't I tell anyone what?"  
"You know what I mean." Billy rolled his eyes at him, then explained, with an unimpressed look on his face, "About me and David."

"Oh, so he's called David?" Steve raises a single eyebrow at him, taunting. He manages to bury the pang of _whatever_  in his stomach.  
"Yes, he's called David. Doesn't matter," Billy stops them getting side tracked, "Why didn't you?"  
"I told you," Steve shrugs, then goes to turn on the shower again, "I don't care, dude."

A firm grip on his hand stops his intended action. Confused, Steve looks between their hands and Billy, whose entire demeanor changes in the instant. His eyes go dark, and his entire body seems to flex, trying subconsciously to draw Steve's eyes to it. It doesn't... for the most part. Billy keeps his eyes trained on Steve as he nears him, and then stops a short distance away to speak up, voice huskier than it had been previously.  
"Or maybe... you do care." He purrs, looking him up and down once, "I mean, you seemed pretty flustered that night. It couldn't have been that you were..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, just stretches out an arm to thread through Steve's hair, then drops Steve's fist to repeat the action with his other hand. He comes closer still, teasing, and Steve thinks he just about might die with the anticipation. Then again, what the hell was happening? Steve wasn't gay. That thing with Nancy... it was real. And damn, did it hurt when she said she didn't love him. But then... when Nancy was close to him, he got this fluttering sensation in his stomach, and he couldn't stop looking at her. It had been so long since he'd felt that, so why was he feeling it now? How was the boy - yes, _boy_  - with the pretty blonde curls and dangerously piercing blue eyes making him feel like this? Steve gulped hard, unsure what was happening, but unwilling to stop Billy in his path of whatever it was.

Billy smiled, charming as always, at him, and began brushing his hair back lovingly. He dropped one arm to Steve's bare waist, where he cupped the smallest part and tugged, almost sending Steve flying into him. Stopped by Billy's firm form, Steve landed flat against his chest, with his hands on strong biceps. The wind was now well and truly knocked out of him, but he found he rather didn't care. After all, this... yes, this might have been it. Maybe Billy's insinuation was right. Maybe the reason he'd run the other night wasn't sheer surprise, wasn't internalised homophobia, but instead his own feeling of...

"You're such a pretty boy..." Billy hummed into his ear, "So pliant, so willing, so..." he checked, casting a look down and then breaking his facade completely, proclaiming, "Aha! Turned on! I knew it."

Steve felt instant dread. Whenever Billy used _that_  tone, something bad was coming for him. He'd heard it when Billy called him in the hallway, then proceeded to shove him into the lockers and leave, snickering to his cronies. He'd heard it when the news of his breakup with Nancy first reached him, as he confronted him. The very first time, they hadn't been in the showers like they were now, but rather when they happened to go to the same shop one day. Billy had been so cruel, Steve hadn't expected to hear that voice in that moment. He loathed it, in fact, now more than ever, because the warm sensation Billy's gentle caresses had been spilling throughout his body instantly disapparated, leaving him feeling cold and empty. He swallowed once more, though this time with no pleasure involved. He awaited Billy's reaction, but soon noticed he wasn't being pushed off and into the shower head. No, Billy was still letting him lean on him, and even... even his eyes were back on him. Steve flushed with confusion.

Billy snapped out of his trance soon enough, realising what he'd just learned. Steve motherfucking Harrington had had a boner, and it was because of him. Not even him at his sexiest - just with a couple of touches and a husky voice. Shit, this was easier than he thought - too easy. In fact, a brief thought came across him which told him he was being double-bluffed, and Steve would come out on top. Not on his watch. If there was anything Billy was sure of, it was that he was winning today, and forever. So, without any more thought, he captured Steve's lips in a blistering kiss, relishing in the small noise of pained surprise he elicited from the boy.

It was then he realised what he'd done. He'd wanted to win, so he'd kissed Steve. Kissing Steve Harrington was like winning to him.   
Jesus Christ.

He pulled back from the kiss, looking blankly at the shower wall for a moment, then murmured, "Looks like I am a queer after all."  
Steve grinned at him, then nodded. "Looks like it."

Feeling suddenly, inexplicably defensive, he shot back, "Well, you are too, Harrington." He nudged Steve's erection in a way he didn't intend to be amusing, but Steve laughed anyway. He then nodded again.  
"Looks to be the case."

After a moment, pausing to see how Billy would react, Steve took the go-ahead and kissed Billy once more. This time, however, Billy's mind took charge, going into overdrive: okay, so he was gay. That didn't have to mean he was a pussy. To prove this point to himself, he threaded his hands through Steve's soaking hair and pulled back, taking his moment of weakness to strike, pushing off of the wall and walking Steve over to the other side, sadistically enjoying how he broke from the kiss as his back roughly hit the hard surface of the shower wall. He grinned evilly, then ran a quick hand down Steve's spine to soothe the ache.

Not a moment later, he roughly pushed away from Steve, instantly missing the heat of their bodies together, and murmured a quick, "Whatever, dude." as he wandered off, turning his shower off as he did so. Shaking his hips, sauntering off, he let himself smirk privately when he heard Steve's little breath, then he was gathering his normal clothes and dressing, finally. He took the moment to think to himself, mulling over a few things:

Despite being the weirdest thing he'd ever done, ever, Billy realised not so much had changed about them, and he was grateful. After all, Steve was still Steve, he was still himself, and he was the one in charge. Order was once again right within the world, and for the longest time he felt... good. Really good.

One thought resided over all others, though, as he swung his gym bag over his shoulder and left the changing room, still having not seen Steve leave the showers: he could get used to this. Whatever it was, he could already feel himself liking it. And that, perhaps, was the greatest, most natural thought he'd ever had in his lifetime.


End file.
